Like Father, Like Son
by Prophe-Cass
Summary: If any normal person had entered the house that cloudy Saturday morning in February, their first thought would've been something similar to what follows; "Why are Hawkmoth and Chat Noir here?" Their second thought would be to somehow contact Ladybug, or, at the very least, the police force


**February 15th, 19:00**

**Random Rooftop in Paris**

_"Cat got your tongue? Leave a message!"_

_"Hey, Chat. It's me, Ladybug. Again. I…uh… I'm wondering where you are. It's been almost four days since the last akuma attacked. I'm getting suspicious that Hawkmoth is planning another 'Heroes Day' or something and I…I'm worried. I want to meet up to discuss plans, but…uh…_

_"I didn't see you at all yesterday, and…yesterday was…well, you know. I was kinda expecting you to be around. Being a romantic dork. But uh…yeah._

_"…Hawkmoth didn't…you're okay, right? You're not like…captured by Hawkmoth, right? That's not why there's radio silence from both of you, right? Please send me word that everything is fine, and you're just busy because you got a girlfriend or something."_

_"Please."_

Ladybug stared in worry at her yo-yo, clicking it closed for a moment as she stared out over Paris. Her gaze scanned the rooftops in worry, keeping her eyes open for her feline partner. Every shadow caught her eye, but every shadow disappointed her with their lack of green eyes.

She opened her yo-yo again, desperately, and clicked on the 'Track Chat' icon she had added after he had vanished after a lethal akuma, _again_, before they could pound it. It had saved his life a number of times and had helped her track his progress during other occasions when they had to split up. She was thankful for it yet could only wish it wasn't needed. It didn't work unless if he was transformed, but it was worth a shot, right?

She blinked at the flashing paw as it came online, frowning in confusion. It was there, displaying his location. He was transformed, yet he wasn't responding. Why ever not? It didn't make sense, but…

_Wait._

What was he doing _there_?

Suddenly, a text from him popped up on her yo-yo; the kind of message he created that would only send when she next checked his location.

She clicked on it, holding her breath.

(:)

**Twelve hours earlier**

**February 15th, 6:00**

**Agreste Mansion, Lobby**

If any normal person had entered the house that cloudy Saturday morning in February, their first thought would've been something similar to what follows; _Why are Hawkmoth and Chat Noir here?! _Their second thought would be to somehow contact Ladybug, or, at the very least, the police force.

However, there was a very clear line between 'Any Normal Person' and Nathalie Sancoeur.

The secretary merely sighed, rubbing the bridge of her nose as she approached the two of them. "The usual, sir?"

"That would be excellent, thank you, Nathalie." Hawkmoth nodded, adjusting his position in the chair as he gazed at his arch nemesis.

"Anything for you, Adrien?" Nathalie inquired politely, adjusting her velocity so that she was on the path toward the kitchen. She eyed the coffees he had yet to drink, deposed on the end table. It appeared he was still being stubborn and refusing the beverages she had prepared for him.

"No thank you, I really couldn't impose upon your already busy schedule." Chat Noir said with mock formality. He paused for dramatic effect, eyes never leaving that of the male super villain, before adding, "_Mayura_."

Nathalie only shrugged, continuing on her path.

Gabriel Agreste and his heir, Adrien Agreste, had discovered one another's identities three days prior. After barricading every possible way the other could sneak up on them, they had exiled themselves from the rest of the house, never dropping their transformation for even a moment. Eventually, one day in, i.e., six pm Thursday evening, they had come into the lobby at the same time and resolved to stare at one another. Every few minutes, Hawkmoth would interrogate the feline hero, and Chat Noir would respond in kind.

It appeared, thirty-six hours later, the two of them were still content to glare at the other with ferociously. How they hadn't succumbed to exhaustion – Chat Noir especially, judging by his lack of caffeine – remained a mystery.

Nathalie was already in the kitchen, preparing two cups of coffee – one for her employer, and one for his son, a coffee which she guessed would never be drank – when she heard the yelling start. She sighed to herself, shaking her head.

An object of great size smashed against the door – which she had luckily remembered to close – proving that once again, she'd have to fix all the furniture they'd tossed about in their fury. The two were truly related; Chat Noir once going so far as to rip part of the banister out of the stair well to yeet at Hawkmoth. His father had responded with shredding the chandelier – how he reached it without moving from his spot Nathalie would never know – from the ceiling and chucking it toward the model's general direction.

Nathalie entered the foyer, sidestepping the couch that was sprawled next to the door, claw marks obvious on the fabric.

"I'm afraid the company is going to go through a finance crisis if you two keep this up." Nathalie told the two of them, picking up the three empty mugs from Hawkmoth's end table and replacing them with a new cup. She made her way over to Chat Noir, holding out the mug full of nearly pure caffeine to him.

The guardian of destruction eyed it for a moment, picking if from her hands slowly. He looked at it suspiciously for a moment – as if Nathalie drugged it with sleep medicine – then threw the mug at his father full-force.

Of course, Hawkmoth deflected it, and it smashed into the staircase, splintering into about a thousand pieces, the black coffee showing off clearly against the marble and silver-flower-printed carpet.

Nathalie picked up the mugs he had yet to drink, shaking her head. "Should I cancel your two o'clock?" She asked Hawkmoth, balancing all eight coffees on her waiter dish.

"That would be for the best." Hawkmoth growled, blue eyes flashing like ice as he glared at his son.

"And another sick day for you, I presume, Adrien?" Nataline guessed, arching an eyebrow at him.

Chat Noir's fake politeness returned, and he nodded. "Thank you very much, Mayura." He smiled, then resumed snarling at his father, claws flexing.

Nathalie sighed, shaking her head. "I'm not Mayura anymore, Adrien, you know that."

Chat Noir ignored her, keeping his full attention fixated on Hawkmoth.

"Tell me if either of you need anything at all." Nathalie requested, disappearing into the kitchen with the mugs. She poured the unconsumed caffeine down the sink and placed the cups in the dishwasher. A few more mugs came down from the shelf, and she made and heated a fresh pot of coffee. She tried not to wince whenever something crashed into the kitchen door or wall, exhaling through her nose and counting to ten every time the noise outside got too loud.

She eventually had to leave the four walls of safety to get into Gabriel's office to grab her tablet, then had to return to the lounge so that she could be in easy contact with them if they wanted her to fetch anything for them. She pulled one of the chairs from the ground, ignoring that it only had two legs diagonal from each other, now, and balanced it carefully against the wall, sitting down. The springs from the ripped open cushion dug into her back, but she pretended that it didn't bother her at all.

"You know," Chat Noir said, still staring at Hawkmoth with anger in his green eyes. "Ladybug's going to get really suspicious by the lack of Akumas and get worried when I don't show up to patrols."

Hawkmoth raised an eyebrow, swinging his staff across the floor to unsettle the cement dust and regular dust on the ground. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"It's called a tracking device." Chat Noir said, tilting his baton slightly. "Believe me, a concerned and paranoid Ladybug is _not_ one you want to mess with."

Hawkmoth only smirked. "Well, it's a good thing I won't have to mess with her, then; I do believe there is nothing suspicious about you are hanging out at your own house. Trying to fool me will not work."

Chat Noir only shrugged, still with that hideous glint in his eye.

Nathalie was beginning to have a hunch that she and Gabriel were wrong about the Super Duo knowing one another's identities. Perhaps, at any moment, Ladybug would crash through the ceiling, gun blazing and harboring a few other supers behind her. And Nathalie would not be surprised.

(:)

**February 15th, 19:00**

**Agreste Mansion, Lobby**

It was several hours later, about 19:00, when Chat Noir's baton began to scream at them.

Not literally, of course, but the metal started to ring frantically, as a supposed incoming call from Ladybug came through.

Chat Noir, not daring to move, scowled at its place imbedded in the wall, no doubt wishing he could reach it.

Hawkmoth had the same expression on his face. "Nathalie!" He instructed; tone gruff.

The secretary obeyed, - she would have turned it off, anyway - approaching it. She pried it from the wall and tossed it at Chat Noir, who expertly silenced it, yet did not hang up.

The ladybug symbol kept blinking, but no sound echoed into the air around them.

Hawkmoth looked annoyed but did not protest; instead glancing at Nathalie and requesting she fetch his cane for him.

Nathalie did so, handing it over.

She glanced at the time, humming to herself. "Well, sir, it appears that it is time for another cup of coffee. Adrien, would you like some?"

"_No thank you, Mayura_." Chat Noir growled through clenched teeth, snarling at her.

"Very good." Nathalie nodded, though inside she was getting irritated at the stubborn child. She wasn't so untrustworthy that he didn't even want her to being him even one bit of sustenance, was she?

Nathalie read a new email that had come through as she poured another coffee for Gabriel and Adrien. Adrien's was set on the counter, this time, in case he changed his mind. She really did not want to clean up another coffee spill.

The email was exactly what she expected, and she sighed. "Gabriel isn't going to be happy about this." She muttered, sighing in resentment to herself. This was not what she signed up for when she got this job.

She entered the living room, impressed that nothing else had been thrown during her absence, and handed the mug to Gabriel. "It appears that many of your clients and employees are quite irritated by the constant change in schedules for the last two days. The clients, especially, are demanding to see you soon, or else they will bring their business elsewhere. What should we do?"

Hawkmoth glared at his staff in anger, stabbing it into a chair cushion and using it to toss said object across the room.

Chat Noir barely avoided the incoming pillow.

"How dare they!" Hawkmoth roared, beginning to pace in a meter's worth of room. "I am the one who built a fashion empire from nothing; I'm the one who provided for them unlimited times! Bring their business somewhere else…ha! To whom? They are not aware that I own a Trust, hmm? Fools…" He muttered, continuing in with his rant.

Chat Noir looked bemused.

Nathalie chose not to respond to the email.

"You know…" Chat Noir said, obviously trying to annoy his father, "That girl in my class? Marinette? Surely she'd handle all your clients with ease, and make their stuff look better than you'd _ever _make them."

"A teenage girl? Ha!" Hawkmoth snarled, shaking his head in anger. "There is no way that-"

"Oh, puh-lease." Chat Noir smirked. "She has more talent in one hair than you do in your entire body. I mean, have you seen her running streak recently? Oh, and need I mention that your sales have been dropping significantly since you became Hawkmoth?"

"What?!" Hawkmoth roared. "How do you know that? Nathalie, did you show him the charts?!"

"No, sir, it's common news. Everyone is aware of our lack of sales." Nathalie shrugged, tapping away at her tablet. "A poll gets taken every three months; it used to be because you wanted bragging rights over Audrey Bourgeois, but…eh…well… you never requested for it to be taken down."

Hawkmoth muttered something under his breath, shaking his head angrily.

Nathalie glanced at Chat Noir, finding a wide grin upon his visage. It was cruel, teasing, and it looked sinister with the fangs. Whatever had happened to the sweet boy she used to take care of?

"This is why I urge you to pay more attention to your designs." Nathalie reminded Gabriel, sending a request to cancel the poll. (_As in; take it down or else.)_ "You do _not _want to be the laughing stalk of the entire fashion world."

"So much for owning a Trust." Chat Noir bitterly chuckled, playing with his blonde locks. "If you even know what that is."

Hawkmoth screeched at him, throwing his cane at his son in wrath, sharp side facing the boy. Chat Noir knocked it away with his baton, ear twitching, eyes narrowing.

"You _are _a horrible father, aren't you?" He seemed to realize, blinking at the discarded weapon in shock.

"I am only doing what is best for you!"

"So, throwing a sharp object at me is 'doing what is best' for me?!" Chat Noir responded, hand heating. "I'm beginning to think it'd be better if I were dead! Would that be 'doing what is best for me'?!"

Hawkmoth's mouth moved, but no sound came out.

Nathalie winced, backing away. It was always heartbreaking whenever she realized she was witnessing a broken family firsthand.

Chat Noir glared at his father in wrath, as if daring him to say something, anything. Before Hawkmoth could, though, Chat Noir's ears perked up, and his eyes widened.

He flattened himself against the floor, covering his head, and the roof exploded.

Nathalie was just out of range so that the pieces of ceiling, glass, wooden planks, and tiles raining down didn't even touch her, but both of the supers were not so lucky. Chat Noir was able to avoid the brunt of it, but Hawkmoth was covered by concrete and wood in a matter of seconds.

Nathalie blinked, and Ladybug was standing in the center of the debris, yo-yo twirling between her fingers, murder flashing in her eyes. She looked around, ignoring Nathalie, shoulders barely relaxing as she spotted Chat Noir standing up.

She strode over to him, grabbing his upper arm and pulling him up. "Alright, what's going on?" She demanded to know once he was standing straight.

He blinked at her, relief sparking in his eyes.

_Guns blazing indeed._

Nathalie was beginning to wonder if she should retreat; she already knew what was coming next. There was no way that Chat Noir wouldn't rat both her and Hawkmoth out; that he wouldn't stay silent. Nathalie took another step back, almost reaching for the Peacock brooch before remembering that she no longer had it. Even fixed, it hadn't done her any favors, and Gabriel had been very much opposed to her using it again. Which meant he changed the combination on the safe and put the Miraculous back.

By the time Nathalie looked up again, about a dozen other heroes – most of whom she'd never even seen before – are surrounding the duo, looking around suspiciously.

"I see you brought the cavalry." Chat Noir nodded, inclining his head at the heroes.

"Just like you asked me to." Ladybug said, frowning. "Now, where's Hawkmoth, and _where's Adrien?_"

Hawkmoth – his timing impeccable as always, pushed off the debris from him, revealing himself in his full, transformed form.

Chat Noir jerked a thumb at him. "There's Hawkie, and, don't worry, Adrien's out of the house."

_Well._ Nathalie figured when Chat Noir and everyone else didn't spare her a second glance. _Gabriel clearly underestimated him. He's become such a fine young man. And…honestly, Gabriel had this coming. His own fault, I suppose, for becoming Hawkmoth and ruining his family…_

The heroes had Hawkmoth surrounded by this point, weapons pointed at him. Chat Noir was sagging against the banister, exhaustion finally pulling down at him. Ladybug looked torn between mothering her partner or challenging Hawkmoth.

_This_, Nathalie supposed, _is the end of Hawkmoth's reign. No two ways about it._

**(:)**

**Oneshot complete! And no, I will most likely not be continuing this. If I do, someone has kidnapped the real author. Or it's April Fools.**


End file.
